Philippe
by md1347
Summary: You know the story is going to be strange when the furniture talks.


**Philippe**

By Mike Douglas

_Special thanks to nezabudka1 for help with editing the story._

Rating: R (Adult Language)

-P-

_Disclaimer: Luke, Noah, and all related characters, plots, and locations are property of As the World Turns, Telenext Media, and CBS Television. No profit is made from this fan creation. No copyright infringement is intended!_

-P-

Summary: You know the story is going to be strange when the furniture talks.

-P-

My name is Philippe. I was carefully hand crafted, by the finest artisans, to fit into only the finest houses in Hollywood and I have been in many of them through the years. It's the latest house that I need to tell you about.

Noah, my newest owner, carefully restored me, as I regaled to him some of my finest memories of the Hollywood actors I had met. Like many others, this house was too much for him. A house, you feel you need to have, when almost everyone you work with lives in multi-million dollar mansions. You don't have the money, so you have to improvise. You try to get something expensive looking, in a good neighborhood, for virtually nothing. You gamble, hoping it pays off . . . a bankruptcy, a short sale and good luck. When you finally buy the house, on the beach, it makes you almost feel like a bank robber.

And that's where I come into the picture. I was purchased to go into this empty fancy three story number but all the things my new owner put on me were old, well, except the candles in the corner. I mean, who puts old things on such a nice well sculptured piece like me? He fell in love with me instantly. Who wouldn't? I may be old but I am well built. My arms and legs are strong and my back can hold anything that gets put upon it, even a human or two through the years, but I digress. I am the stud from next door that you always wished you could have. Some would call me handsome . . . but gorgeous would be the word I'd use, darling. I'm vintage . . . wait, that makes me feel old. Like fine wine, I get better with age. That's better! Isn't that the lie that we all tell ourselves?

Anyway, back to the story. My owner wasn't the happiest man, when I met him. I'm one of the original occupants of the place and for a while, it was me and Barney, the couch. _My boy_ seemed happy back then but a new job and a new house can keep anyone's mind off their troubles. But he wasn't. He had bad dreams all the time. He slept next to me for months until he had enough money to buy a mattress. It was lonely after he left but I have a view of the beach and I am the center piece of the house. People always walk up to me, compliment me and look at what I have on my back.

I had a feeling, the human, used to move around a lot but I think he's settling in. He only had a few boxes when he moved in. One of which he put next to me. I was anxious to see what was in it but it took him a few months to finally look through it. His mood was somber when he opened it.

The first picture he took out was a picture of a handsome, blond, young man. The picture itself brought him to tears. After a few minutes of staring at it, he put it against his chest and hugged it. Then he carefully put it on the spot where it would most be seen. The second picture was of a man and woman. A handsome couple if there ever was one. A picture of the blond with three other kids. A picture of an older dark haired lady holding a cookie jar. The fifth picture was of a woman I wouldn't want tussle with. The last was a picture of all of them together at Christmas. After sitting them all on me, he opened the outside door and walked into the yard, and then onto the beach. He sat down and looked at the ocean, for a while. Obviously, he missed them. That was three years ago.

Then one day, there was a knock on the door. _My boy_ wasn't expecting anyone, so it was a big surprise when he opened it up to find the blond from the picture standing at the door. There was a lot of crying, a little arguing and then a whole lot of kissing.

I've had humans on my back before. It's Bogie and Bacall that reminded me of these two. Bogie took his arm and brushed everything off my back, before he passionately put Bacall upon it. It was that very same passion that I felt from these two. I was a bit relieved when they rolled onto Barney. I'm not as young as I used to be. Anyway, it was a shocking sight. Don't get me wrong. I've seen just about everything through the years but they could have at least closed the curtains. I didn't notice anyone walking by but then again, I was a bit distracted by trying to keep the glue in my joints.

That was five years ago. There is a lot of happiness in the house now. All the pictures come to the house often. Even the bitchy one. She keeps throwing her big purse on top of me, disrupting everything on my back. She won't know it was me but one of these days, I'm going to drop her purse on the floor. I hope it's open and all her shit scatters all over the place. _Clumsy bitch_!

_My boy_ is happy now. He and the blond got married and there are kids in the house now. They've changed a lot of things but Barney and I are still around. I remember all those years ago when he bought me and all the love he gave me. These are some of the best humans that I've had the privilege to serve. Anyway, I have to go. That bitch is coming and her purse is open. Today's the day!

Tata my friends,

Philippe


End file.
